


The Devil Watches After Her Own

by TheCreatorOfTales



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Joan cares, Joan looking after Vera, Soft!Joan, Swearing, Tiny Hint, a hint of FreakyTits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCreatorOfTales/pseuds/TheCreatorOfTales
Summary: Its the VinegarTits incident.Instead of humiliating Vera further when she comes to her office, Joan decides to take a different course of action. Which might just change the way the story goes.Canon Divergence.
Relationships: Vera Bennett & Joan Ferguson, Vera Bennett/Joan Ferguson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	The Devil Watches After Her Own

She can smell it before she sees Vera.

_Vinegar._

It’s a strong smell, and not a pleasant one. She tries to think of what could have happened to make the smell so overwhelming when it hits her. She can’t hear Vera’s heels on the carpeted floor of the corridor yet, so she’s got a few minutes until she reaches her office door. The small size of the corridor makes the smell permeate under her office door.

It’s likely all over her deputy. Which means she’s either been pushed, or she’s fallen into it. Likely due to a misbehaviour by an inmate. Not acceptable, but something to be dealt with at a later time. Sort out Vera first, make sure that she’s alright, possibly fling an inmate through a wall later.

_Right._

She’s going to need to tread carefully here, her attempts at getting Vera Bennett more confident in herself could be completely ruined today if she says the wrong thing or reacts carelessly. Having to care for her vapid mother at home is bad enough, she’s seen what vitriol the dying woman throws at her daughter. It beggars belief that the woman taunts the daughter who is in charge of her pain medication. Obviously, all common sense has left the woman in her last weeks. Joan is not a person who makes many friends, and Vera was the closest thing she had to a good friend. If she was certain of the woman’s sexual persuasion, she might even hope for more, however she was still a particularly good friend, regardless. She would not lose such a good person to the malicious intent of Wentworth’s population or to her mother’s verbal poison.

She rises from her desk, quickly walking over to the closed door in the furthest corner of the office. She flings it open and then crouches down to open the cupboard under the sink where the towels are kept. She showers at home, so the apparatus here is untouched since she started her tenure at Wentworth. However, for cases of an emergency, she keeps a bottle of her favourite body wash and shampoo and conditioner here. Accidents do happen after all. She picks out two pristine, fluffy white towels, and carefully folds them over the towel warmer, then reaches down to make the little radiator as hot as it will go. She crouches down again, and looks at the washcloth, debating whether to throw that over on the radiator too.

_Better to have it warm and not need it than to want it and not have it._

She places it over the radiator.

Having prepared the bathroom as best she can, she stalks out, leaving the door ajar, and gets to her kitchenette, filling the kettle and getting two mugs out of the cupboard. The kettle boils quickly. She knows how her deputy takes her tea, so she quickly prepares a cup for her, as well as herself. She carefully carries both mugs over to the desk and places one closer to the computer on her side, and leaves the other on a coaster closer to the chair on the opposite side of the desk, steam rising from the liquid.

She thinks to herself for a moment, and then quickly goes back to the fridge in the kitchen area, grabs two shot glasses and the bottle of vodka. Vera will likely need a shot or two.

She’s in the process of removing her blazer to hang on the back of her chair when there’s a timid knock on the door. She quick to reach the door and open it, seeing her deputy drenched in vinegar, and clutching her wrist close to her body, and there’s obvious bruising. The smell is overwhelming, but Joan refuses to let her face contort into a grimace.

“Oh Vera, what’s happened?”

“Bloody Jenkins in the meal room. It wasn’t for me, it was for Fletch but it was me that slipped and landed in the fucking stuff. They called me Vinegar Tits.”

She’s swearing and she’s near tears. _Not good_.

“Come on, come in, I’ve got the shower prepared for you, and there’s fresh towels hanging on the warmer in there.” Joan ushers in her deputy, a look of concern on her face. She’s never known Vera to swear before, so she’s not sure whether its in response to anger or upset.

Vera is shocked at Joan’s treatment of her. She expected a remark and an order to go home, adding to her humiliation. Perhaps a caustic remark to go and take care of her mother or something similar. Nothing like that comes. All Joan does is quickly usher her into the office area and sits her into a comfortable chair. Apparently, she’s underestimated her Governor, who is looking at her in concern, but not pity. Vera is glad of that.

“Fresh cup of tea, along with a shot of vodka. Have the vodka first, it will stop you shaking. Drink the tea, then you can use my bathroom to shower, whilst I go looking for a compress for your wrist.” Joan leaves no room for refusal. Not that Vera would, she’s had the day from hell, and somebody is actually giving a shit enough to make sure she’s alright and look after her until she feels back to normal. It feels nice.

Vera hadn’t even realised that she was shaking.

“Do you have a spare uniform in your locker?”

Shaking her head, Vera gives out a strangled bark of laughter.

“I took it home yesterday to wash it. There I was thinking I was being super organised. Oh god I’m going to have to go home smelling this stupid, fucking smell!” She raised her good hand to face and held her head, palm resting over her eyes.

_Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re furious, why are you nearly crying!?_

Joan looks at her deputy and makes a decision. She reaches over to the other chair usually for guests and drags it closer to Vera. Then, she sits, and gently brings Vera’s hand away from her face. The younger woman is a mixture of angry and upset, possibly from having her pride hurt in front of those she’s supposed to manage. Joan understands perfectly what she’s feeling, a similar thing had happened in the early days of her career, the only difference was that nobody was there to make sure she was alright after. All she got at the time was a reprimand for needing to get her ankle checked at the hospital.

Vera would not experience anything like that.

“I have a spare top and a pair of leggings in my locker over there. They’ll likely be a tad big but we can make it work so it won’t look strange. I even have a oversized cardigan in there too.” Her tone is kind, but a little playful towards the end, poking fun at the ridiculousness of needing to keep an extra large cardigan in her work locker. Vera laughs once, then reaches over and downs the shot glass of vodka, making a face at the burn it leaves in her throat. Joan pats her hand then gets up to reach over the desk to grab at her own mug of tea.

Vera tries very hard not to look at her rear as she does so. But it is a nice view. She has nearly no experience with men, and even less with women, but she’s realised recently that her preference for women had existed all her life. She’d just never been strong enough to yank the reins of her life out of her mother’s hands to experiment and discover it. Either way, Joan’s backside is toned and the work trousers only emphasise it whilst she isn’t wearing her blazer.

She leans forward for own mug of tea and cradles it in her hands, grimacing slightly at the throb in her wrist, as she enjoys the heat of the tea seeping into her hands. She watches Joan pick up her own mug and then settle back into her chair.

They sit for about ten minutes, talking about random topics, until both mugs are empty and Vera seems less likely to stab someone with a pencil if they breathe wrong on her.

“Better?” Joan asks, watching her reaction carefully. The adrenaline from the whole situation has likely left her system by now, judging by the way Vera has relaxed into the chair.

“Better.” The deputy agreed, handing over the mug to Joan who held out her hand so that she could go rinse the two in the sink in the kitchen. She patted Vera’s hand that rested on the armrest and got up, rinsing the mugs quickly and leaving them to dry. Once that was done, she went over to the office windows and shut the blinds and turned to the other woman and smiled kindly. Reaching her locker, she punched in her combination, and opened it, quickly locating the black leggings, grey v neck t-shirt and the cream coloured cardigan she’d mentioned earlier. Quickly closing the door to the locker, she stepped into the bathroom and lay the clothes over the closed toilet lid.

“Right, I’m going to go look for a compress for your wrist, so take your time to get yourself feeling back to normal, alright?” Joan smiled and motioned towards the open bathroom door. “Bathroom is through there; the towels should be toasty by now. I’ll lock the door and take my keys, but the door can be unlocked from the inside if you need to.”

Vera got up out of the chair, and looked at her, gratitude obvious on her face. “Thank you, Joan. Really.”

“Think nothing of it. We’re outnumbered here, particularly because we’re the higher management. I wouldn’t let you walk out of this building in any way that might make you the butt of any jokes by anybody. Head held high, always. You’re good at your job, Vera, and nobody should ever get to make you feel less than, especially not an inmate. I’ll deal with it.” Joan waved her off and smiled at her, reaching to grab her blazer from the back of the chair, slipping it on and closing the buttons with one hand as she opened the office door and stepped outside. She used her keys to lock the door, as promised and walked down the corridor, pulling the closed blazer straight to remove any creases.

She quickly made her way down to the officer’s break room, knowing that there was a first aid kit in there. When she entered, the room was completely empty, however as she was rifling through the box, looking for a compression bandage, Will Jackson entered, still wearing his jacket and with his lunchbox under his arm. A look of confusion flitters across his face as he sees the Governor flicking through the box.

“Governor? Everything alright?” he questions, hoping that nobody has hurt themselves too badly.

“Aha! Finally.” Joan grabbed the small packet and turned to the officer. “Miss Bennet had a fall earlier in the kitchen of the meal room, she’s smacked her wrist quite hard when she went down.” As she spoke, she walked over to Vera’s locker and opened the door, quickly locating the black shoes with a small bow on the front that Vera would wear to drive to work and drive home sitting in the bottom of the locker. Picking them up, she turned to the man as he switched on the kettle. “Could you check to see if there’s a cold compress in the freezer under the counter, please?”

Nodding, Will bent down and searched for the requested item. He saw that there was a set of three, so he grabbed one and wrapped it in a clean tea-towel from the drawer and handed it over to the Governor.

“Thank you, Mr Jackson.”

“Is Vera alright?” Will had heard rumours whilst overhearing some of the inmates as he’d come in, something about a ‘Vinegar Tit’ and his stomach dropped to his toes as he thought that perhaps Vera had been the victim of an inmate’s maliciousness.

Sighing at the situation, Joan placed the cold compress, next to the packet with the bandage on the table and placed Vera’s shoes on the chair. “Apparently Jenkins had poured some vinegar on the floor in the kitchen of the meal room, meant for Mr Fletcher.” Will’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Unfortunately, it was Vera who went in and slipped in it. There’s now quite a cruel nickname circling the prison about it.”

“Vinegar Tits.” He stated, his mouth in a line.

“Yes, exactly that.” The Governor looked angry, and for once Will was in perfect agreement with her. Vera was a good person who cared about her job and she was good at it. Maybe needed some more self-confidence, but he had to admit that Miss Ferguson was helping in that respect.

“What can I do to help?” He asked. The Governor, tilted her head slightly as she thought about the question.

“I need you to check the CCTV in the area that she fell. I want to know who was in this little scheme before I start yanking people out of their cells to slot them. I want to know exactly who was involved. I also plan on revoking privileges too. If they are confident enough to pull this sort of stunt, then I want it nipped in the bud.”

Will nodded, understanding her reasoning.

“I’ll get on it now. Once I find out who was responsible, do you want me to notify you, or do you want me to deal with them?”

“Slot them immediately, and you can explain why in any way you like.” Joan collected the shoes, compress and the cold packet wrapped in a tea towel and turned to leave. “Thank you, Mr Jackson.”

“No problem, Governor.” He called after her. It wasn’t until he was keeping his jacket that he noticed he was missing his badge, remembering that he had kept it in the compartment in his bike.

Swearing, he rushed out to go and grab it, and as he was quickly walking towards his bike, he noticed Conway, sans her usually blonde wig, wearing the clothes that he had dropped into the laundry basket in the medical bay the day before, trying to walk towards the exit. As soon as she noticed that Will had noticed her, she began to run.

Which led to Will Jackson needing to tackle a prisoner and escort her back in, which then led to him needing to report to the Governor what had happened in person.

After dropping off Conway in the solitary cells, he immediately walked with pace up to the woman’s office.

He knocked and entered as he heard female voices talking inside. Once he’d fully opened the door, he saw Vera sat in a chair brushing out her wet hair, looking comfortable in a pair of leggings, a soft looking t shirt and oversized cardigan, with a fresh cup of tea next to her. Joan was behind her desk, writing an incident report and looking through the CCTV, having heard that Will had been detoured from his task due to Conway’s escape attempt, so had taken over the task of checking the surveillance footage herself.

“Ah, Mr Jackson. Good work with Conway.” She looked up at him, pen paused in her report writing. Will nodded in response.

“I just wanted to let you know that she’s in the slot for the night, ma’am.”

“Leave her there for the night. She can be dealt with further tomorrow. Some sleep might do her some good, she’s been particularly agitated recently.” Joan placed her pen down as she reached for the mug of tea near her.

“Its something to do with her partner if I remember right. The one she stabbed.” Vera spoke, her hair now partially dry and starting to curl. She reached back and pulled half of it up into a half ponytail, wisps of hair falling delicately around her face. Altogether, she looked good, nobody would have guessed that she’d been covered in vinegar and shaking less than an hour previous. “Apparently he won’t come to see her and sent his brother to pass on the message.”

Will sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I get it, but Christ they love to make our jobs harder don’t they?”

“Hazard of the post, unfortunately.” Joan agreed with him. She swiped her signature across the report and quickly closed the file. She checked the time and noted that it was time to go home.

“Mr Jackson, I need Jenkins put in the slot. From what I could see, it was only her. I’ll speak to the prisoners tomorrow about it in more detail, as well as seeing about revoking privileges, but as of right now, I’ve had enough for the day. There shouldn’t be anything that pops up tonight, however if there’s any major complications, you know how to get hold of me.” As she was speaking, she went through the motions of shutting the computer down and collecting her things. Will nodded, wished them both a good evening, and left to go and slot Jenkins.

“I swear if I get a phone call tonight, I’m rolling over in my bed and pretending I didn’t hear it.” Joan’s tone was deadpan, but it made Vera burst into laughter as she stood up to take both mugs into the kitchen to clean them. Joan bent to collect her clear pocket, and threw her phone into it, not bothering to get the car keys until she was out of the building. Vera washed both mugs quickly, and headed back out into the main area of the office.

“I’ve ordered you a new uniform, vinegar is a difficult smell to get out of clothes once its dried. Should be here in about two days.” Joan said to her as she slipped on her coat. Vera smiled at her in gratitude.

The clothes Joan had given her were sumptuously soft, and felt expensive. The leggings, which on Joan were capri leggings, came to Vera’s ankles and fitted well enough in the waist. The t-shirt had been knotted in bottom on one side so it looked more fitting and the cardigan over the top covered up any oddness about the outfit. In all honesty, she looked like she was popping down to the shop to grab some milk.

“See? You look good.” Joan remarked, smiling. Vera blushed a little in response. The two of them left the office, pausing to let Joan lock up and they made their way through the building. Linda Miles looked shocked as she watched the pair walk past her into the break room to grab Vera’s clear handbag. It was almost as if she expected Vera to be walking around still covered in vinegar, Joan thought.

_Not a chance._

Vera had been nervous to appear into the main section of the building, especially dressed as she was but Joan had offered a piece of wisdom.

“Show them that you aren’t rattled by them. You’ve got a fresh set of clothes that you look good in, and you’re recovered from the incident, apart from the compress on your wrist. Head held high, Vera, you have nothing to be nervous or ashamed about.” Joan had smiled at her, and when Vera returned her smile, she nodded and they began the long trek through the building to get to the carpark through the officers entrance.

They both reached their cars, which had been parked next to each other, unintentionally.

_Now or never Vera._

 _“_ What are you doing tonight, Joan?” When the woman answered with a negative, she felt a burst of confidence. “Chinese takeout at my house tonight? My treat? A thank you for today. I insist.”

For a moment, Vera had the nightmarish mental image the woman would laugh in her face. But she didn’t.

Of course, she didn’t.

She smiled widely at her and answered.

“Sounds perfect, I’ll bring wine. Shiraz or Pinot?”


End file.
